


Broken Pieces

by CariadWinter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Feels, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Post-Hogwarts, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-05 10:54:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13386324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CariadWinter/pseuds/CariadWinter
Summary: Four years after the Battle for Hogwarts, someone is punishing the Voldemort followers that seemingly slipped under the radar. It's up to Harry and the rest of the Aurors to not only protect those they feel are targets but find the witch or wizard responsible as well. Draco Malfoy is not impressed.





	Broken Pieces

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cher](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cher/gifts).



Draco stopped along the edge of the back gardens, his gaze on the forest beyond. Everything was cold and dark around him. Autumn was fading into winter. The first snow of the season had fallen the night before and for a moment, just one, Draco could breathe again. 

He loved winter, loved the cold and the white and the way everything bad that had been the year before died off, became new in the spring. Winter was the time to bury the past. The time to forgive, even if you couldn’t forget.

He wished he could forget his past; wished with everything in him that he could go back and change things. Maybe, just maybe, if he could do that then things would have turned out differently.

“See something out there?”

Draco exhaled slowly, the warmth of his breath puffing up white on the cold evening air. “Nothing,” he replied, unwilling to share his thoughts. They wouldn’t matter to Harry Potter anyway. 

Harry crunched forward through the snow until he was standing at Draco’s side. He didn’t speak at first, just followed Draco’s line of sight off into the trees.

Three days ago Head Auror Robards had shown up on his doorstep with Harry Potter and Susan Bones in tow. Someone was hunting down Death Eaters and Dark Lord supporters. Someone was wiping their minds, leaving them little more than childlike.

John Dawlish had been the first victim. He’d never been a true supporter of Lord Voldemort, but he’d done his share of vile deeds during the war. Minister Shacklebolt had released him from his duty as an Auror after the war’s end and very little had been heard of him since. He’d been lucky he’d gotten off with termination rather than spending time in Azkaban. The poor bastard was paying for his crimes now though. In spades.

A month after Dawlish, the same fate had befallen Pansy Parkinson. Draco hadn’t spoken to her personally in years. Their views differed too greatly now. Draco had no hate left in his heart anymore. There were no more lines drawn in the purity of blood. For him, there were only people. Muggles, half-bloods, purebloods… all just people. Pansy hadn’t liked that particular change in him. She couldn’t accept the man the war had turned him in to. So they had parted ways. The news of her fate had cut him deeply though. Despite their lost friendship, despite the vile things that had been said between them, he’d still loved her.

The third victim had hit even closer to home. 

Narcissa Malfoy had left home for a luncheon in London a week ago. She’d never returned. Frantic, Lucius had called in the Aurors. It had taken them two days to find her. She’d been alone and terrified, wandering the streets of muggle London, her mind in tatters. Her one saving grace had been the personal wards she kept up at all times. Narcissa was no fool. She knew there were those out there that meant to do her harm. Every Malfoy knew that. The curse had been strong enough to do some damage though. The immediate effects had worked like any normal incantation of  _ Obliviate _ . Her wards, however, had shielded her enough that the Healers had been able to return some of her mind. Lasting future memories would be hard for her to create and she would forever live without many of the memories she’d already formed, but she’d eventually recognized Lucius and her son. For that, Draco was grateful.

“Do you think it hurts?” Draco asked absently, too lost in his thoughts to look at Harry.

“What?” Harry questioned.

“Having everything you are and ever will be taken from you,” Draco replied.

The other man didn’t speak right away. This was, to Draco’s mind, the first real conversation either of them had ever shared. They’d fought plenty in school, exchanged heated words, curses, and enough pent up rage to fuel a lifetime. They’d never talked before though. They’d never shared anything even remotely civil.

It was weird.

The lack of tension between them felt off somehow... like they’d both stumbled into some sort of alternate dimension. 

“I don’t think Parkinson or your mother were harmed physically, no,” was Harry’s eventual response. 

It was what the healers at St. Mungo’s had said as well. Draco supposed it had to be true. Curses didn’t have to hurt to get the job done. Still, Draco couldn’t help but wonder if the body still felt some sort of pain as it happened. To have your whole life ripped away from you, your past, the people that you love, your own sense of self… could it really all just vanish with a simple whispering of words and nothing more?

“Are… you okay?” Harry asked quietly, as though this moment between them was some strange, fragile thing. 

Draco huffed out a laugh. It was soft and small, carried away by the wind. “Would it matter if I said no?” he parried, finally turning his head to look at the man next to him. “Would you even care? Really care?”

Harry narrowed his eyes at him, that spark of their forever rivalry igniting in those green eyes. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t, Malfoy,” the Auror snapped. 

This felt more familiar. Safe. Comforting even.

“Of course you would, Potter,” Draco fired back with a bitter smile. “It’s in your nature to at least pretend to care. Even when you really don’t. You wouldn’t be you otherwise.”

Harry turned to face him completely, shoulders stiff, fists balled at his sides. “Can you just not help yourself? Is heartless arsehole really all there is to you? Even now, with your mother ill and your girlfriend’s mind shattered, does it seriously mean nothing to you?”

Draco pulled himself up to his full height, eyes piercing as he sneered at him. “You know nothing of the way I feel, Potter. I don’t need your comfort. We are not friends. We have never been friends. We will never be friends. You are here to do one thing and one thing alone and that is to protect my family. And perhaps, if any of you knew how to do your jobs in the first place, you’d only have one victim instead of three.”

“Why you… the Ministry is doing everything in its power to stop this from happening!” Harry snarled, rage painted across his face like a comet’s trail. Draco let it crash over him like a warm blanket. 

“Harry!” Someone called from their right and they both turned to see Susan Bones standing a few feet away. She offered a small smile to them both. “Dinner.”

Harry glanced back at him, the fire still lit in those eyes, but dimming. Draco arched a brow at him in return. The argument was done for now. Harry stomped off towards the house, livid but probably thankful for the respite. Susan shared one last look with Draco before she turned and followed him. Draco watched them leave. The cold crept back in past the thick barrier of his coat and the warmth of Harry’s anger. He didn’t follow them. He wasn’t hungry.

The truth was, Draco had been drifting since Hogwarts, since the war. His family was wealthy enough that he’d never have to work a day in his life, though even if he wanted to, he doubted very much it would be wise. The Malfoy name wasn’t exactly trusted by the majority of the wizarding community. He was hated and he knew it. Which, in most regards was fine. Having people revere the family name had been his father’s ambition. Draco just wanted to be left alone these days. 

He took long broom rides to forget, submerged himself in hobbies such as alchemy and magical repair when he needed to keep busy, and spent the rest of his free time reading or renovating the dungeons. He’d managed to turn a small portion of it into a workspace for himself. With a little more time and tinkering, it would be a proper laboratory.

There were pieces missing though. His parents expected him to marry soon and Draco found the idea of it daunting. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to share his life with someone. He simply wasn’t certain that anyone would want to share their life with him. At least, not any of the prospective brides his parents had lined up for him. 

And now, people were losing themselves. Someone was punishing the complicit and Draco was most certainly on the list. What’s more, it’s didn’t frighten him. He wasn’t afraid of some faceless witch or wizard slinking out of the shadows to destroy his mind. Draco simply wondered if it would hurt when it happened. He wondered, just a little if it wasn’t what they all deserved. To forget. To be tamed in such a way that they could never harm anyone again. Part of him would even be grateful to have the memories gone. Because whoever was doing this, whatever their motivation, it was wrong. Being forced to live without his memories would be a blessing. To remember, every day, with every breath he took, the things he’d done… that was Draco’s true punishment. That was his prison.

 

* * *

 

“I’ll be going into the city for some supplies this morning,” Draco announced after breakfast a few days later. Harry hadn’t spoken a word to him since that night in the garden.

The Auror looked up at him now, eyes bearing down on him over the top of the  _ Daily Prophet _ . “No,” was the man’s only reply.

And of course, the answer was no. Harry and his timid, little, church mouse partner had them under virtual lock and key.

Draco finished off the last sip of his tea, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and then stood. “I wasn’t asking for permission,” he informed him before turning and leaving the dining room.

He heard the scrape of Harry’s chair across the floor as the man stood to follow him. “And I’m telling you no,” Harry reiterated, tone firmer this time. “It’s too dangerous right now. We don’t know who the next target will be.”

Draco made his way up the staircase to the second floor and turned to head into the east wing. His chambers were at the far end and he’d yet to dress for the day. 

“I have few things that I do that actually make me happy, Potter. Alchemy is one of them. To continue my work, I need a proper lab, which I am building. To finish the lab I need more supplies. I have put this trip off since my mother’s attack. I am going.”

“No, Malfoy, you aren’t. If you absolutely must have your supplies today then make me a list and I’ll see that they are collected for you,” Harry offered in return.

The gesture was kind enough, but Draco preferred to do the collecting himself. If there was one thing that hadn’t changed about him, it was that he was picky. He needed to see each item himself, hold it in his hands if necessary. Everything had to be of the best quality and he didn’t trust anyone else to make decisions for him.

“I appreciate that you are just trying to do your job and that you have my best interests at heart,” Draco informed him as he headed into his bedroom. He left the door open so that Harry could hear him from the hall. “I would still prefer to gather them myself. I can assure their quality that way.”

He quickly stripped out of his robe as he spoke and tossed it across the foot of his bed. Draco’s nightshirt followed, buttons slipping buttonholes at the behest of nimble fingers. Once that was tossed aside, he stripped his sleep trousers off and tossed the pajamas over the robe on the bed. When he turned back towards his wardrobe, he stopped, caught in Harry’s wide gaze.

Draco’s pulse quickened. There was faint blush creeping across Harry’s cheeks, his lips were parted just so, and for one moment it made Draco feel desired. That, of course, caused him to panic.

“Never seen another man’s cock before, Potter,” he jeered. To which Harry’s gaze jolted from Draco’s groin to his face. The man realized then that he’d been staring and quickly turned around.

“Sorry,” the Auror blurted out, sounding as panicked as Draco felt. “I just… I didn’t… I wouldn’t have…”

Draco rolled his eyes, his heart pounding madly in his chest. “Merlin, Potter! If you fancy a shag that badly all you have to do is say,” he teased as he forced his feet to move, placing one in front of the other until he’d reached the wardrobe.

The sound of the other man choking nearly made him snicker.

“I don’t!” Harry denied frantically. “I… what?”

The tension between them was back again, thick and palpable and it threatened to suck the air from Draco’s lungs. He pulled his pants and trousers on quickly and felt more secure with each article of clothing that covered him. Harry looking at him the way he had was just wrong. The reaction it had pulled from Draco was worse. So, so much worse, because Draco had learned long ago not to want things he could never have.

“You can turn around now,” he instructed once he’d finished dressing.

Harry peeked quickly over his shoulder. It was a rapid glance to assess Draco’s state of undress and seeing that it was safe, turned completely. His cheeks were still flushed a rosy shade of pink. Draco silently cursed him for it.

“Honestly, Potter. Don’t you know better than to enter someone’s bedroom without an invitation?” Draco chided. Perhaps if he could instigate a fight it would negate the warmth churning in his gut.

Harry blinked at him, still looking far too flustered for the good of either of them.

“Sorry,” he mumbled again, apparently unwilling or incapable of rising to Draco’s challenge.

“Yes well,” Draco raked his hair out of his eyes and moved to stand in front of the full-length mirror in the corner, “just… don’t do it again.”

It wasn’t the biting comeback Draco had hoped for, but they were both off-kilter and what he really wanted was for the other man to go away. Considering their earlier conversation though, he doubted very much that Harry would let him out of his sight.

With a sigh, Draco took in his appearance. His hair was a bit messy, but instead of retrieving his brush he ran his fingers back through it. He’d been growing it out for a while now and while it was finally nearing his shoulders, it was still too short to put up for his liking. He only resorted to tying back while he worked. Either way, however, this was as good as it got.

He retraced his steps to the wardrobe, glancing once at Harry to find the man resolutely staring at the floor, and grabbed his traveling cloak.

“Are you ready?” he asked, causing Harry’s head to snap up quickly.

“Ready for what?” Harry asked, both looking and sounding lost.

Draco arched a brow at him. The man really was simple at times.

“Supply run? The whole reason you followed me up here?” he reminded him. “We should go while it’s still early.”

Harry blinked again, seeming to come back to himself all at once. “I told you, you aren’t going.”

And ah yes, there was that welcomed feeling of frustration he needed. “Are you planning on restraining me?”

“No, of course not. But I’m not letting you out of this house, Malfoy. It’s too dangerous,” Harry insisted.

Draco moved towards him, careful to keep a respectable amount of distance between them as he passed. 

“Well unless you plan on arresting me or tying me down, I’m leaving,” Draco informed him and stopped to glance back at him from the doorway. 

Harry was right there, directly on his heels, and it made Draco’s breath catch in his throat.

“Malfoy,” Harry said, voice barely above a whisper.

It was Draco’s turn to blink and the only words he managed to conjure up were, “come along if it will make you feel better.”

Harry held his gaze, opened his mouth as though he might argue, but nothing came out.

It was there again, that tension between them, only this time it felt different. It made Draco’s skin tingle rather than crawl. Harry must have felt it too because he moved a step closer.

Draco exhaled, prepared himself for what might happen next… and then something clattered down the hall. It startled them both enough that they jumped apart and Draco shifted his gaze in the direction it had come from. A portrait of his great-grandfather Septimus glared back at him, disapproval etched into his every feature. It was the equivalent of a bucket of ice water being dumped over his head.

He took another step back and another. 

“If you’re coming let’s go,” he snapped out, unwilling to look at Harry again. He felt too on edge now. There was guilt and shame mixed in with the unwanted desire and all he wanted to do was get away. 

Without waiting to see if Harry would actually follow, Draco headed off down the hall. 

 

* * *

  
  
Harry and Susan didn’t remain at the manor. Not permanently at least. Over the days and weeks following his mother’s attack, different Aurors came and went. Things were even quiet for a while, enough so that the presumed threat was thought to be over. 

And then Gregory Goyle was attacked. 

Draco felt as though the world had opened up and swallowed him whole.

Like Pansy, his friendship with Greg had faded over the years. Greg had held true to the beliefs that he’d been raised with. Draco had not. The friendship had ended soon after. The blow of losing him, even now, still carved something out of him.

The rotation of Aurors continued. The ministry had promised protection and they were holding true to their word. Any family or individual presumed to be a target was offered a guard.

“Are you going to go visit him?”

Draco looked up from where he’d been setting up one of the tables in the lab to find Susan standing at the base of the stairs. He gave her a wry smile and continued with his work.

“I don’t imagine I’d be welcome by what’s left of the Goyle family,” he told her.

She moved further into the room, eyes curious and searching as she took in all of the changes. “I thought your families were close. Haven’t you and Goyle been friends since childhood?”

Finishing with the alembic, Draco turned towards the bookshelf along the back wall. There were stacks of books on the floor in front of it and with a flick of his wand, he sent them spinning into the air. They could start sorting themselves on the shelves while he worked on getting the retort and sand bath set up.

“Greg and his family didn’t share my… change in beliefs after the war,” he informed her. “They refused to be associated with a blood traitor.”

Susan stopped in front of the athanor and toyed with the handle on one of the doors. “I can’t imagine anyone ever thinking you a blood traitor, Malfoy. Surely your change in beliefs can’t be that extreme.”

Draco snorted and wished that were actually true. If only for the sake of having his friends back. “Have you ever regretted anything, Susan?” he asked, stopped to really look at her.

She shrugged and gave him her full attention as well. “A few things I suppose.”

“Well imagine telling everyone you know that since the war you’ve had a change of heart and basically you think Dumbledore and Potter were wrong and Voldemort was right.” He watched the play of emotions flash across Susan’s face as he spoke. Surprise was chased by awe, quickly followed by disbelief, skepticism, and something darker. Nearly her whole family had been killed by Voldemort after all. 

“I’d say that would be unthinkable,” she replied, watching him closely now. “Impossible even.”

Draco nodded. “Now imagine my family and friends surprise when I told them that we should have never listened to Voldemort. He was a madman. I watched him do things… did things myself that…” He shook his head, blew out a slow breath, and returned his attention to the sand bath. “If I could go back and change it all I would, Susan.”

“But you can’t,” she pointed out and when he glanced at her, she’d moved closer. She was standing on the other side of the sand bath looking curious. “The things you did can’t be undone. You can’t just expect to be forgiven because you’ve suddenly had a change of heart.”

“I don’t want your forgiveness,” he assured her. “As much as I’d like to change it all, as much as I’d like to forget, the past would still be the past. People would still be dead and I’d still be responsible.”

Draco swallowed around the lump in his throat and tried very hard not to give in to the sinking feeling in his chest. “Why does any of this matter to you anyway?” he asked; his own curiosity peaking. 

Susan shrugged a shoulder and returned to studying the room. “It doesn’t,” she admitted. “Just bored I guess. And curious. You, Crabbe, Goyle, and Parkinson were inseparable during school and you’ve not mentioned them once. I guess I just found it odd.”

“Well now you know,” he told her and she offered him a small smile over her shoulder.

“Now I know,” she agreed. “And hey, at least you still have your parents. That’s something.”

“Yes, well, I’m fairly certain that had I not been an only child, things would be very different,” he noted with a humorless chuckle.

Susan turned back to him and he was surprised to find something like compassion in her eyes. “Your parents love you, Malfoy. They may not understand this… new you… but they still love you. That much is clear.”

A warm, grateful pain swelled in his chest and Draco offered her a small, genuine smile. “Thank you for saying that.”

She gave a nod of her head and turned towards the stairs. “I’m thinking I might have some tea. Would you like me to have some sent down to you while you work?”

Draco thought about it for a second, then nodded. “Yes, thank you,” he replied. 

Susan gave another nod of her head and then disappeared up the stairs. It had been an odd conversation and one he’d not exactly been expecting, but Draco supposed she’d been at the house long enough now that it had been bound to happen sooner or later. Though he still thought her an odd fit to the Auror department. It made sense on some level. She’d lost more than most to Voldemort. Still, Susan was still soft-spoken and mousey. She didn’t exactly project confidence and power.

He turned back to his work, content to lose himself in the process of getting everything how he wanted it.

 

* * *

 

“We’re being called away,” Harry stated. 

He was standing in the doorway to Draco’s bedroom, once again uninvited. Draco was seated by the fire, book lying open on his lap. It had been snowing hard for days and the manor got ridiculously drafty during the winter.

“I expected it to happen sooner or later,” Draco stated without looking at the other man.

He heard the Auror shuffle a little where he stood.

“The ministry can’t justify spreading the Auror department so thin when no headway has been made in the case. We’ve been told to instruct the family to strengthen their wards and not to go anywhere alone. I don’t know if I agree with it, but the decision isn’t up to me.”

Draco looked up from his book, gaze falling on the fire for a moment before finally looking at Harry. “It made no sense for you to be here in the first place. I think we both know that. My mother was already a victim of an attack and whoever is doing this seems to only target one person per family. It doesn’t mean we’re safe, but I imagine there are other more high priority targets out there.”

Harry nodded. “We’ll be focusing on the families who haven’t been targeted yet. It stands to reason that they will be the higher-ups on the list now.”

Draco nodded as well. “It is a smarter delegation of ministry assets,” he agreed.

Harry nodded again but didn’t turn to leave. He looked everywhere but at Draco. It was awkward and slightly uncomfortable. Draco wanted him to go. He wanted them all to go. It would be easier to breathe in his own home with them gone.

“You’ll remember your own personal wards when you go out?” Harry asked and Draco was reminded of the morning outing weeks ago. Harry had complained the whole time they’d been out and he’d snapped at the man a few times in return. They’d shared a halfway pleasant lunch together though and the whole day had passed without incident.

“I am not stupid, Potter,” he drawled in reply. 

Harry glared at him and Draco had to stop himself from smirking. 

“I never said you were. Stubborn maybe, but not stupid,” the Auror shot back. “Your self-preservation instincts have always been a little lacking though.”

It was Draco’s turn to glare and he snapped his book shut, set it aside as he stood. “My self-preservation instincts are just fine and always have been.”

Harry arched a brow at him, challenging. “Is that why you always found your way into the middle of things? In an attempt to protect yourself?”

Draco took a few steps forward, teeth grinding as he went. “I did what was commanded of me!” he snarled. “I’ve always done what I had to do to protect myself and my family and I will be damned if I will apologize for it.”

Harry moved forward as well, eyes alight at the confrontation. “And before the war? Before Voldemort?” he fired back. “What’s your excuse for then?”

Some of the steam went out of Draco’s sails and he shook his head at the man standing before him. “Do you really need to hear me say it?”

“Yeah I think I do, Malfoy! I think I’d like to know why you made my life a living hell for six years!”

“Because I was jealous!” Draco bellowed and suddenly they were toe to toe, chests heaving, breath mingling between them.

Harry reached up and Draco forced himself not to flinch as fingers buried in his hair. “And now?” Harry breathed out. “What about now?”

The fight melted out of Draco’s muscles. “Maybe I don’t want to save myself from this,” he admitted and crushed their mouths together. 

The high was instant. Harry’s mouth was warm and welcoming. The kiss wasn’t soft or easy. They fought each other the way they always had, but in the tangle of lips and teeth and tongue, Draco found himself floating in the blissful absence of anything else. All there was, was Harry.

Harry pushed against him, forced Draco to shuffle backward as the other man’s tongue licked into his mouth. Draco heard the door shut, heard the lock click into place, and he shuddered at the feel of hands tugging his shirt up out of his trousers.

By the time the backs of Draco’s thighs hit the edge of the bed, they’d shed a trail of shirts, shoes, socks, and belts. They parted for air and Draco was certain that he was as flushed as Harry, eyes just as dark and full of lust.

“Tell me to stop,” Harry murmured between them, fingers fumbling open the button and zip of Draco’s trousers.

Draco shivered again, dizzy with want and terrified right down to his core. 

“No,” he whispered.

Harry didn’t ask again.

 

* * *

 

Draco slipped silently from the bed, took one last glance at a still sleeping Harry, before dressing and leaving the room. He had to admit to himself that he was panicking a little. There was no way anyone would accept the two of them together. Of course, that was assuming there would be a second time. Or even a third. All of it could have been something Harry had just needed to get out of his system. The last made Draco’s pulse race.

He moved quietly through the house, down from the second floor to first and on into his lab. He stopped just at the foot of the stairs, gaze darting from the already blazing fire to Susan. She was standing next to the table he’d been setting up during their last conversation.

“I’ve wrestled with myself about this,” she stated softly, starting something that Draco found he wasn’t prepared for. “Because I think I actually believe that you’ve changed.”

Everything clicked into place almost immediately and the sheer absurdity of it was staggering.

“I have,” he managed to say. Draco couldn’t decide if he should run or not.

Susan offered him a sad smile. “I know,” she said with a little nod. She rounded the corner of the table, revealing her wand already in her hand.

Draco’s chin lifted, his shoulders straightened. He didn’t want to lose himself. Not now. For as much as he’d underestimated her though, he knew now that Susan could strike before he’d even made it up the first few steps.

“I was going to wait,” she continued, venturing a few steps closer. “Save you for last. I thought, maybe you deserved that much for being the only one to actually change.”

Susan licked her lips and raked her eyes over the length of him. “This thing between you and Harry though, I can’t let that happen. And please don’t bother to deny it,” she instructed, raising a hand to silence him when Draco opened his mouth to speak. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He’s been fighting it since that night you two argued in the garden. I think he sees the change in you as well. He hates himself for it, but he wants you.”

“Susan,” Draco started and she raised her wand.

“Do you care for him?” she asked and Draco blinked a tear from the corner of his eye.

“I’m so sorry for everything that happened to you,” he told her instead of answering the question asked. “You are one of the kindest, most compassionate people I’ve ever met. And if anyone deserves justice… it’s you.”

She smiled at him, head tilted slightly to the side. It was then that Draco saw the madness hidden in her eyes. “People change, Malfoy. You know that better than anyone.”

“Susan,” he gasped, fear gripping him so tightly that he thought it might suffocate him.

“Obliviate,” she intoned.

Draco sucked in a sharp breath, stumbled backward as her spell slammed into his protective shield. 

“Please don’t do this,” he begged.

She stalked towards him, face twisted into an enraged snarl. “Bombarda Maxima,” she growled.

Bits of masonry exploded around him and his shield shuddered at the impact. Draco stumbled backward again, feet stumbling up the stairs behind him.

“I won’t fight you!” he yelled back. He’d rather lose it all than see one more person harmed or killed because of him.

“Then drop your shield and it’ll all be over much quicker,” she hissed before hissing out another spell. 

The force of it nearly knocked Draco on his ass. His shield cracked and crumbled, collapsed under the force of the impact. He’d made it to the top of the stairs and scrambled backward into the front parlor. It was the one room in the house he hated more than any other.

“Please, just…” Draco held up shaking hands in an effort to stall her. “You don’t really think you’ll get away with this, do you? I mean… if you do this, won’t it be obvious who the attacker is?”

Susan grinned at him, smug and amused. “Not if I obliviate everyone,” she replied. “I messed up with your mother. I didn’t anticipate her wards. Their guards are down now though. I will take care of you, your mother, your father, and unfortunately for Harry, he made the mistake of crawling into bed with the wrong sort. It’ll be a terrible loss for the ministry.”

“No,” Draco said in a panic. “I won’t fight you anymore. You can do what you like to me. I’ll even go with you out into the gardens and you can say that someone got through the wards before you could get to me. Just… don’t hurt them. Please. I beg you.”

She paused to study him. “You’d really do that? Offer yourself up freely if it meant they’d be left unharmed?”

Draco dropped his hands to his sides. “There’s a weak point in the manor wards out by the pond. Take me there and I won’t fight you.”

She remained silent for a breath too long, but then jerked her head towards the French doors that lead out into the gardens. “Let’s go then, Malfoy. Let’s see just how much you’ve changed.”

Draco nodded, heart pounding hard in his chest. He crossed quickly to the doors and then led her through them out into the gardens. The winter snow was agonizingly cold beneath his bare feet, but every step of pain was worth what this would grant him. 

His wand slipped from his fingers somewhere along the way. He didn’t want to be tempted to defend himself again. It would risk too much. 

“We’re here,” he announced when they reached the edge of the pond closest to the forest. He was shivering badly without the protection of a warming charm or even a winter cloak.

Susan’s footsteps came to a stop behind him and he refused to turn and look back. If this was going to happen, he wanted his last moment to be one of his own choosing. 

“If it’s any consolation, if I had any forgiveness left in me, I think I could have used it for you,” she told him.

Draco closed his eyes and thought of the kiss Harry and he had shared only a few short hours ago. More than anything else, that had sent his heart racing for the stars.

“Forgive me,” he whispered, words mingling with Susan’s hissed, “ _ Obliviate _ .”

The warmth that washed over him was instant, but that was it. Nothing else came. Blinking, he turned to find himself standing safely behind a protective shield. Harry stood a short distance away, wand raised, protecting him.

Susan roared out her frustrations and turned her rage towards Harry. “How can you protect him after all he’s done? How can you protect any of them?”

“Because that’s the job, Susan,” Harry replied, eyes fixed upon her. “It’s what makes us different from everyone else. We protect. It doesn’t matter who they are or what they’ve done, we protect them.”

“No!” she screamed and fired off, “ _ diffindo _ !”

Harry’s shield dropped from Draco and flew up to protect himself.

“Stop this, Susan!” Harry yelled. “It’s done! All of it!”

“No!” she said again, head shaking. “It’ll never be over until none of them are capable of hurting anyone else. Can’t you see that?”

Harry edged closer, calm and careful in his movement. Draco wrapped his arms around himself but didn’t dare move for fear of drawing her attention again.

“I see that you’re still hurting. You lost more than most in the war against Voldemort and if anyone can understand what it is you’re going through, it’s me. I know you want justice. I know you want to punish them for what they’ve done. This isn’t the way, Susan. You can’t punish evil by becoming it.”

The laugh that rolled off Susan’s lips made Draco tremble harder. “You think a little stay in Azkaban makes up for the lives they’ve taken? You think a few apologies and empty promises to live better lives make up for the atrocities they all visited upon us?”

Susan’s gaze turned to Draco again and it stole the air from his lungs. “The only reason they aren’t dead is because I’m no murderer. They really would make me as evil as they are. I’m simply ensuring that they can’t destroy any more lives. What’s so wrong with that?”

“You might as well be killing them,” Harry snapped out and shifted a little closer. “What you’ve done to them, they’ll never recover from that.”

She looked at Harry with a sad, insane smile. “Do you think they thought twice about it before they did that me? Do you think my life will ever be normal again? I lost everything!” Susan bellowed.

Tears were rolling down her cheeks when she looked back to Draco. “And so will they.”

Her wand lifted, “Obliviate,” rushing from her mouth as Harry’s, “Incarcerous,” slammed into her.

Draco’s world went white.

 

* * *

  
  
The first thing he noticed when he woke was the all-encompassing warmth around him. He wanted to sink down into it, drift off. The second thing he noticed, once he forced himself to crack his eyes open, was the fact that his head was splitting. Had he been kicked in the head by a hippogriff?

Groaning, he brought a hand up to pinch at the bridge of his nose. “Bloody hell,” he rasped.

“Draco,” a voice called from close by and before he could even think to move, whatever he was lying on dipped at his hip and there was a blurred face hovering over his.

“How do you feel?” he face asked and he had to work hard to string two words together.

“Floaty,” was all he could manage, hand moving from his nose to his forehead. “What happened?”

“You… you don’t remember?”

There was fear in those words and Draco blinked again to clear his vision. Things were still a little foggy, but he was fairly certain he remembered Susan Bones trying to wipe his mind.

He arched a brow when Harry’s face finally came into focus. The man was pale, save for the dark circles under his eyes and it looked as though he were waiting desperately for whatever Draco said next.

Glancing around, Draco realized he was in his bedroom at the manor. His father was standing a few feet away talking with what he assumed was a healer. When he looked back to Harry, he wondered how the man had managed to convince Lucius to let him stay.

“Did you bring me here?” he asked. Harry’s face paled even more.

“I… wanted to take you to St. Mungo’s,” Harry told him. “Your father insisted on keeping you here and summoning a healer.”

“My father?” Draco questioned. Something shut down in Harry’s gaze and the man looked away from him. Draco sighed. “What happened to Susan?”

The question snapped Harry’s attention back to him and Draco smiled.

“Arsehole,” Harry breathed out before capturing Draco’s face and dragging him in for a kiss. 

“What in Merlin’s name do you think you’re doing to my son, Potter?” Lucius snarled. Draco’s heart skipped a beat.

It didn’t seem to phase Harry though. He pulled out of the kiss long enough to glance at Malfoy Sr. then back to Draco. 

“Snogging him senseless, Lucius,” Harry replied shamelessly. “And he loves it.”

Draco opened his mouth to hopefully defuse the situation but found himself with Harry’s tongue shoved down his throat. Lucius spluttered out a string of undignified curses and Draco sighed. He pushed gently away, licking his lips as they parted.

“Please, Harry,” he murmured, hand holding the Auror at bay. “I need to… explain it to him.”

Harry nodded but didn’t release him right away. “Tell me you remember first,” he demanded softly.

The corner’s of Draco’s mouth curled up into a small grin and he nodded. “I remember.”

Harry sighed this time but still didn’t release him. “Now tell me you love me.”

Draco blinked at him, stunned into silence. Harry just looked on expectantly. 

“I…” he mumbled, heart beating so loudly that he was certain everyone in the room could hear.

“Tell me you love me, Draco,” Harry demanded again. “And that I’m not in this alone.”

Draco swallowed hard past the lump in his throat and nodded. “I love you… Harry,” he forced out on an exhale. 

The truth of it laid him bare. All those weeks spent together, not fighting, not talking, tension building in passing glances and shared space, it had changed him. Changed them.

“You’re not in this alone,” Draco promised.

Harry nodded one last time, pressed a firm but chaste kiss to his lips and released him. “Good. Now you can go sort things out with your father.”

Draco laughed. It was an amused, slightly hysterical laugh that felt as though it had been punched out of him. 

“We’re mad you know… to think this will work,” he told him.

Harry shrugged. “Mad or not, I’m willing to try if you are. Because I know I can’t walk out that door and not miss you. I’m not… I may not fully know the man that you’ve become, but I know that I want to. I want to know everything about you.” Harry held his hand out to him and Draco’s heart skipped again. “If you’ll have me.”

“Apparently, I already have you,” Draco teased, but slipped his hand into Harry’s and tangled their fingers together. “And you have me.”

They could learn the rest as they went.

  
  
  



End file.
